T.L.C...Army style...

In a sense you might think you know what this article is about, but, no, it's not necessarily the kind of T.L.C. your Grandma used to give you. This is the kind your Command Sergeant Major gives you!

It seems that back in the late 80's and early 90's, the Army was losing a lot of mid-grade NCOs and promoting the lower-grade NCOs, putting them in platoon sergeant assignments. They were then taking Specialists and moving them up the ladder to Buck Sergeant. This is good for them, well for most of them. However, we were noticing that an unsettling number of these young Soldiers really didn't have the training, savy or Soldier skills to do the job. They might have had their "ticket punched" (i.e. they went to some development schools, or took some admin. courses), but those of us at the top saw that they just didn't have "it." Those of you who have been in the Army for more than just a whistle stop know what "it" is. Promotion boards were pretty much just paper shuffles, and if someone put up a big stink about someone getting promoted, the Board would just promote and move the soldier to another unit, hoping a change of scenery would fix things. We lost some good Soldiers that way and occasionally got some real dirt bags in exchange.

Well, in order to fix this, we put together a NCO development course of our own. The Brigade Commander didn't know about it, and probably wouldn't have approved if he had. We figured this was one of those "Better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission" deals. We just hoped no one got seriously hurt, because the Army at that time frowned on this kind of creativity and imagination.

Our CSM kicked this program off, bringing the candidates from all of our units to our BN HQ for the first two quarter's drills. During this time, we worked with them on such things as understanding commander's intent and OPORDS, writing patrol orders, conducting squad drills as well as inspections and maintenance, and briefing techniques. Then during the third quarter, the troops worked on marksmanship, and improving (or starting to learn) their fieldcraft. Remarkably, this was a glaring shortcoming in a lot of our MPs. Most of these young recruits came from less-than-rural areas like Columbus, Toledo, Cincinnati, Cleveland and Dayton. They were city kids and never had an introduction to field life until they went thru basic training. That was just survival, not really learning how to live as a soldier in the field. Even worse, they didn't know how to take care of troops in the field. Well, guess what -- the CSM and other senior NCOs "learned them a thing or two!" The last quarter was conducted at Ft. McCoy, WI and really challenged their ability to put everything they had learned during the past year into practice. When they successfully completed the last phase (and got a whole day's sleep), we held a pinning ceremony. All of these Soldiers had already been boarded and "technically" were already promoted. However, they didn't get their stripes until they went thru the ceremony. Those of you old Soldiers who remember getting your stripes know that we had a pretty big box of band-aids on hand. This was our way of preparing Soldiers to become real NCOs.

I think back to that every once in a while and get a smile when I think about one particular session. It seems that the way the CSM was going to work on their fieldcraft was to conduct a mini-FTX for them. It began on a very cold, rainy night at the Center in Zanesville. One thing you can always count on in the field is it always rains on soldiers. Rainstorms will travel thousands of miles, against prevailing winds for the opportunity to rain on a Soldier in the field (remember the old saying "If it ain't raining, you ain't training.") The troops had to march out to the field site (about 10 miles) in full gear. Once they got to the site, they had to set up their base camp and get ready for their first assignment. There were several night land navigation exercises, patrol orders to be written and briefed, and weapons to be cleaned and inspected. After a very short couple of hours of sleep, they got started on their next task -- getting ready for their first field meal. At just about that time, the OP SGM pulled up in his mother-in-law's car, popped the trunk and threw out a dozen live chickens. Yep, that was dinner, or at least the main course. The idea was to teach them how to field dress a chicken, put some potatoes and carrots with it and make a kind of chicken dinner for one. Well, I'm not sure most of these young Soldiers had ever seen a live chicken, let alone grasp the idea that they would have to kill it in order to eat it. The CSM asked if any of them knew how to kill a chicken and dress it out. One young Soldier (they called him "Boat") said he knew, and proceeded to draw a line on the ground and grabed his chicken and stuck its head near the line. Well, the chicken then gave him that "what am I supposed to do now, bub" look and everyone broke out laughing. "Boat" then tried to snap the chicken's neck, and learned a little about chicken necks. That didn't work either, so with the chicken looking like it was on a five hour drug high, "Boat" stepped on it's neck thinking he would suffocate it. Somehow, he forgot it had been raining since last night and the ground was pretty muddy and that chicken's neck just kept going deeper into the mud. "Boat" grabbed the neck on either side of his boot and started pulling. Maybe he thought he would stretch the neck until the thing died. At this point, the chicken was going spastic, troops were rolling on the ground laughing, others were beginning to think this was going to turn into a cult thing. Thinking that he had better get things under control, the CSM took charge and showed them how to get this done. Next came the cleaning and taking the feathers off. The CSM told them to get some water in a pot and get it boiling hot. Well they did this, but didn't get the water much above luke warm, because when they tried to dunk the chickens to work on the feathers, it didn't work very well. The CSM told me they had soaked chickens and tried to pull things off in every direction, resulting in feathers flying everywhere -- all over themselves, in their equipment and stuck to their helmets and weapons. It was the most hilarious thing any of those troops had ever seen.

In true Army tradition, they eventually got things finished, policed the area and prepared their evening meal. They were then instructed to hit the sack. They could, if they wanted, build a little camp fire by their individual tents, but remember it had been raining most of the weekend. Oh yeah, and how is it that one careless match can start a forest fire, but it takes a whole box to start a wet campfire? Well, they gave it a good try and as the CSM, the other NCOs and I stood on the hill top overlooking their little bivouac area, there were little tents, little camp fires, lots of smoke and very tired troops down there in the holler -- kind of looked like what some of the Civil War bivouac sites must have looked like.

You know what -- some of those young troops are now the senior leaders in the NCO ranks in the Brigade. I don't think we permanently scared any of them, and they sure turned out to be fine Soldiers and leaders.

Things like this are what I miss most about not being in the Army any more.

Bivouac: The art of getting closer to becoming a SOLDIER while getting farther away from the nearest cold beverage, hot shower and flush toilet.

Hooah

Were you born in a barn...

I don't know how many times my mom would say that when I would come in and forget to shut the door completely. I think that's a standard admonishment all mothers used when we were growing up.

So what does that have to do with this column? Well, Pam and I rented a "barn" in Buck's county, PA about a month ago for a weekend get-away for us and Doug, Danika and Quinn. It seems Doug found this place on line and we thought, what the heck. It looked good in the pictures, and the area is such a beautiful place. The leaves here were turning bright shades of red and orange, and the outlook was pretty good in terms of weather -- well, except for that tiny, little group of clouds way down in Georgia. We were all set for a beautiful fall weekend. Yeah, yeah -- you guessed it -- it rained most of the weekend, but we had a great time none-the-less. The rains stopped long enough each day for us to get out and take walks along the Delaware River canal, and out in the 80 acres of woods and fields. Generally the temperatures were cool except for the last day we were there, the day after Doug, Danika and Quinn left to go back to the city. Go figure.

The place lived up to its billing. It was one of the coolest places I have seen for a while. The old barn, built in the 1800s actually has a house inside it, complete with glass ceilings. The first floor is all kitchen and the living area is upstairs. The floors are original wood planks, and the place is heated by three wood-burning stoves, and a supplemental furnace system. The owners have taken care of the place, and it really is quite nice. They also have two donkeys, two sheep and a potbellied pig. Quinn got his first taste of farm animals up close and personal.

As we explored the various parts of the "barn," we came across a copy of Better Homes and Gardens from 1980 which featured this place on the cover, complete with a big spread inside. Funny, the kitchen looked exactly the same -- same appliances, table, lots of the same things hanging on the walls. the upstairs looked pretty much the same except the furniture had been replaced and modernized a bit. We also found out that the the man of the house was a former Olympic Champion in the 1964 8-man rowing at the Tokyo Olympics. We saw his pictures and the oar he used in the race. I have to say, that was pretty cool.

Pam and I really got to know our grandson. He intently stared at the TV when we watched a DVD about farm animals -- his favorite for now. He is like a sponge, taking everything in. As much as he liked the video, he was fascinated by the real animals, and enjoyed walking in the fields (although he fell down a few times because he's not used to the unevenness of the ground and grasses). He woke up in the mornings and would crawl around on our bed, looking at things, taking in all the strange sounds and smells. He also really liked the whirlpool tub at bath time. No whirlpool, just a great place to splash and get everyone wet. What a treat this time was for the two of us.

We did experience a tale of two seasons on the way there and home. It snowed as we got into the mountains on the way there. In fact, they had a reported 9" of the white stuff up in Happy Valley, ruining the tailgating for the Penn State game that weekend. But then, as I said, it was absolutely beautiful on the last day we were there and the next day as we drove back to Ohio.

Those of you who have done these types of road trips will understand this. The drive over is filled with anticipation, kind of like that proverbial box of chocolates. And the drive home is a quiet blur for the first three or four hours, sometimes longer if the co-pilot gets out the camera to review pictures. Everything in the middle is like having a bowling alley in your brain.

What greater thing is there for human beings than to feel that they are joined with each other for life - if in no other way than silent, unspeakable memories.

Hooah